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State of the Arts

The Evolution of Boston Comedy by Laugh Boston

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Three local comedians talk about how Boston’s stand-up scene has changed over the generations.

In the 70’s and 80’s, the Boston comedy scene was the place for blue-collar kids to make it big. Nobody understood that more than Cambridge-native Lenny Clarke. Clarke was a janitor at Cambridge City Hall, just down the street from where another Boston comedian, Steve Sweeney, would perform. “Back then,” claims Clarke, “there was only a 100 or so successful comedians in the business.” Every week, after he was finished sweeping halls and emptying trash cans, Clarke would grab a few beers and watch Sweeney on stage. “I knew it was what I wanted to do. The lights, the crowd...it was all so exciting to me.”

For months, Clarke took every gig he could--working every night and often showing up at clubs he wasn’t scheduled at in hopes the comedian wouldn't show and he’d be chosen to fill-in. “We didn’t have websites, or Facebook, or even reality TV,” Clarke adds. “The only way I had to market myself, was to walk up to someone and say, ‘Hi I’m Lenny. I’m performing over at so-and-so club. Could you just come watch me for five minutes?’” According to Clarke, each night he’d show up, he prayed that people would show up. Eventually, Clarke’s dedication paid off and he landed more and more gigs. That’s when the Ding Ho opened in Boston; a new comedy club that quickly became the place to be seen. Clarke became one of the most well-known comedians from Boston. Now part of an elite fraternity, Clarke was in the middle of a booming industry that exploded with excitement, parties, and more money than he’d ever known was possible in a comedy career.

By the time the 90s came, stand-up comedy reached its height in popularity. The number of famous comedians far surpassed that of the 80s, and the possibility of becoming a comedian-turned-sitcom-star was more of a reality thanks to popular shows like Seinfeld, Ellen and Home Improvement. While the sitcom boom of the 90s was giving big dreams to comedians looking to make it in television, the number of stand-up comedy clubs was getting smaller. New Hampshire native Juston McKinney was one of the comedians trying to make it as a comedian/sitcom star--leaving his post as Deputy Sheriff in Maine. “In the mid to late 90s, we’d all seen how far Lenny and the other Boston boys had made it and the rest of us just wanted a small piece,” says McKinney. “There were a lot more comedians, but a lot less venues so we all took to the road to find either a sitcom deal or a headlining opportunity at whatever big clubs were left,” he adds. “Boston only had a few and they were flying in the big acts.” In 1997, McKinney took his VHS audition tape to New York and before he knew it he had meetings with CBS and Warner Bros, lining up pilots left and right. “Back then,” he adds, “they would pay you just for your ideas,” says McKinney. Networks had money and they weren’t afraid to spend it.

“They’d pay me just to not speak to another network,” adds Clarke, “And I was just fine with that.” The “comedy gold rush” continued into the early 2000s, until the market crashed. “The crash affected everyone,” says McKinney. “I lost everything and went back to the road, trying to find stand-up gigs.” The big networks stopped giving out big deals when they realized they could save money with reality TV. Both McKinney and Clarke endured the shift, keeping their gigs strong. “At that point, I made a name for myself,” says Clarke. “And nothing could take that away.”

By the mid-2000s, the comedy scene had changed completely. There was less drug use, more talent, and more people fighting for the few gigs out there. There were no dedicated clubs for stand-up comedy left in Boston, reality television opened the doors for “regular” people to become talent, and social media sites such as MySpace, Facebook and Twitter made it easier for aspiring comedians to take their acts to the Internet, instead of the road. It became easier for comedians to connect with audiences and promote their stand-up without ever having to leave the house. One of the leaders in the new digital age was Dane Cook, born and bred right here in Boston. “He was the first one to really take advantage of what social media could do,” says Will Noonan, a fellow Boston comedian. “Once we all saw what he did, those of us that were even a little bit tech-savvy, knew we could do the same.” Noonan’s social media presence is just as impressive as his comedy. With over twenty-two thousand followers on Twitter, an Instagram account that gets hundreds of likes per post, and a successful podcast with audiences all over the country, Noonan says smart phones and social media make it easier for him to market himself 24-hours a day. “I built up my audience so I have to be funny all the time, or I lose them,” he adds. “It’s easier to promote my work - whether to get stand up gigs, podcast listeners or whatever else.”

So, what does the social media age mean to the “old-school” comedians? “I have a Twitter and all that, but I’m not on it all day,” says Clarke. “I don’t feel any pressure to be on it, but that’s because I’ve got my career. I’d like to be better at it, but I don’t worry about it. I can see why the younger comedians feel the pressure. There’s just so much competition.” While Noonan says that social media is a huge part of his career, McKinney says he’s trying to catch up with the times. “I’m just learning it now and it’s tough because being good at social media really is almost a full-time job in itself,” claims McKinney. “Some of the sites, I love. Some, I just can’t figure out,” he says. McKinney and fellow comedian, Gary Valentine of King of Queensfame, created a Kickstarter campaign to fund a new project, Hosed, a movie about a volunteer firehouse in New Hampshire. “Our campaign gets fifty likes an hour on Facebook. It’s crazy. Social media gives us opportunities to make our own dreams come true, instead of relying on some network to make it come true for us,” he adds.

While all three comedians are in agreement that social media has opened doors for talent that may have never been opened before, they also agree that nothing can replace the experience of seeing live stand-up, and no amount of Twitter followers can make up for true talent. “At the end of the day,” says Clarke, “if you’re not funny, you’re never going to make it.” McKinney and Noonan agree. “Comedians like Lenny put Boston on the map,” adds Noonan. “We can’t let him down.” Though the industry has changed, the love to laugh remains the same.

Last month, Laugh Boston opened, the premiere Boston comedy club that gives local and national comedians a home again. “It’s all come full-circle and stand-up comedy is regaining its strength in the industry,” says Chet Harding, who owns Laugh Boston with his partners Norm Lavolette and John Tobin. Collectively, the trio has over twenty years and has experienced the road stand up has taken. “Stand-up comedy isn’t going anywhere,” adds Lavolette. “Not if we can help it, anyway.”

Laugh Boston is an upscale, yet casual, 300 seat comedy club located in Boston’s growing Seaport District. Laugh Boston hosts local and national acts four nights per week, and is open to host private events and fundraisers. For a list of upcoming shows, including Juston McKinney and Gary Valentine, visit www.LaughBoston.com.